


The Enormity of Amaranth

by Cornflower_Corvid



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Ambiguous Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Analysis of Yuri's past in the end notes, Childhood Trauma, Cuddling & Snuggling, Despite all this the emphasis is on the Comfort portion of the Hurt/Comfort tag, Hurt/Comfort, I was liberal with tagging this because the content could be triggering to some, I'm Sorry Yuri, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Nightmares, Post-Fire Emblem: Three Houses, The Archive Warnings used reference the events of Yuri's past, The violence is described but the scene cuts off before the other Archive Warning happens, spoilers for Yuri's supports with Bernadetta (all) and Dorothea (A only)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:07:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23621320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cornflower_Corvid/pseuds/Cornflower_Corvid
Summary: M!Byleth x Yuri hurt/comfort fic involving nightmares and childhood trauma. More details in the end notes for those who aren't sure about the content (due to the archive warnings) and don't want to get squicked.Please read the tags.
Relationships: Yuris Leclair | Yuri Leclerc & My Unit | Byleth, Yuris Leclair | Yuri Leclerc/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 2
Kudos: 59





	The Enormity of Amaranth

**Author's Note:**

> Just another reminder to please read the tags and the summary. If you haven't yet, please do, this work is potentially triggering.
> 
> That aside, this is post-canon, and as I don't mention a location, could take place after any route.
> 
> Please enjoy!

Someone was screaming.

Every inch of his body hurt. He was certain several of his ribs were broken, and he hoped dearly to the Goddess that none of them had punctured a lung. Blood trickled down the side of his face. The hard pavement was sharp against his cheek, made more discomforting by the condition his body was in. 

Something hard hit him in the side, and he had the cold realization that the screams were coming from his own mouth. Pain flared up all over his body as multiple blunt objects (boots? maybe they were kicking him?) repeatedly pummeled his already bruised skin. His mind jolted back and forth, unable to concentrate on any one sensation amidst the unrelenting punishment.

“Please, no…” he grated out between his wails of pain, his voice low and broken.

The men slowly eased off, and when he dared hope they were done with him, one of the people leaned down, grabbing his hair and pulling his head up, making the world spin. With his eyes refusing to focus and his dirty, matted hair in his face, he could barely make out the man’s features, and definitely couldn’t say if he recognized him or not.

“We better not ever see you ‘round here again, boy. The Count will not hesitate to put you down a second time if you _somehow_ don’t succumb to this after we throw you in the ditch,” the man hissed, and then shoved his face back into the cold, hard ground. One of the people stepped on his back as the others continued their onslaught.

“Kid’s got a real pretty face boss. Would be a shame to let him die here without a proper send off,” remarked one of the men, probably the one stepping on his back. Something inside him coiled up tight; he was suddenly very glad he hadn’t eaten much today.

“Yer sick, you know that? The kid’s like, _thirteen_? But I’m not gonna stop you,” replied the man who had threatened him a moment ago. The words grated his already worn-down nerves, making his head pound with a feverish ache.

_Yuri?_

He wondered briefly why it sounded like someone was calling his name, but those thoughts were cut short as he was suddenly hoisted up to his knees, arms held behind his back by one or two of the thugs. One man, probably the one who had proposed the idea, was standing directly in front of him, and it appeared that his hand was raised. It came down very abruptly across his face, making him cry out, and he started to struggle until that hand came up again and grabbed his hair roughly. The pain as he was jostled made his eyes roll back in his head briefly, and he became so disoriented he was almost happy to have those thugs holding him up, or he certainly would have crumpled to the ground.

“Oh no, none of that. I’m gonna treat you real nice… as long as you don’t try anything,” the man said, his voice simultaneously like velvet and the edge of a switchblade. 

_Yuri?!_

There was that voice again, and this time he was sure someone, somewhere was calling his name. The voice was soothing for some reason, but he had no time to consider it as the man was coming closer to him, his cock now freed from his pants. That tight, coiled up feeling in his stomach burned suddenly, swelling up inside him as the world spun. He heaved, pain flaring up violently in his body as his stomach spasmed and bile and acid dripped from his lips. He could hear his own frantic heartbeat in his head, and he simultaneously wanted it to give up so he could be free of this torture and needed it to continue so he could distract himself with the rhythm. Abruptly he became hyper-aware of his surroundings, his senses assaulted on all fronts; the smell of stagnant water, the taste of bile in the back of his throat, the bruising grips that kept him upright, the repulsive sight in front of him, and the sound of-

_“Yuri!”_

Suddenly free, Yuri lashed out, attempting to hit the person in front of him. A strong grip caught his arm, but instead of hurting him, that hand just kept a firm grip on his. “Yuri…”

Breathing heavily, Yuri opened his eyes, wondering when he'd closed them, and surprised he could even see. The hand on his wrist was gently rubbing the back of his hand, and he finally started to realize he was no longer in that alleyway, and someone was hovering above him. “…Byleth?” he called slowly, still feeling disoriented.

The hand let go of his wrist, instead settling on his shoulder. “Are you okay?” came his husband’s voice, gentle like a summer rain.

Yuri rolled over, his eyes bright. Still rattled from the nightmare, his mouth moved in an attempt to respond, but no words came out. Byleth pulled him closer, running his hand down Yuri’s back, and the tears that had been threatening to spill ran down his cheeks as he pressed his face to Byleth’s chest. Byleth made soft soothing noises and whispered comforting assurances to him, and he gradually felt the tremors in his body fade away as he relaxed.

“I’m sorry I woke you up,” Yuri mumbled into Byleth’s sleep shirt, his voice finally seeming tangible again.

A soft chuckle flitted past Byleth’s lips as he looked down at Yuri. “You don’t need to apologize. But I thought you might try.” He gently brushed a thumb down Yuri’s cheek, wiping away a tear. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Yuri closed his eyes, and for a moment he was back in that alleyway, pain flaring up again all over his body. His eyelids snapped back open out of shock, and Byleth must have seen the alarm on his face, because he suddenly looked significantly more worried. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m here,” Byleth whispered, giving his shoulder a light squeeze. He reached down to gather Yuri’s hands in his, running his thumbs over the backs of his hands again. “Tell me about it, if you can.”

Looking away, ashamed of himself for being a 27 year old man who still had nightmares of events that occurred over a decade ago, Yuri frowned, thanking whatever lucky star had given him a partner who didn’t care that he was filthy and unworthy, and had managed over time to even convince him that maybe he wasn’t. This nightmare brought it all crashing back though, and suddenly he felt so overwhelmed he began to shake slightly, his breathing becoming erratic. Byleth immediately noticed and released his hands, moving his own up to Yuri’s face. “Yuri, look at me,” he urged even as he was turning Yuri’s face back towards him. 

Yuri let his eyes shift back to Byleth’s face, and for a long moment he just stared, still trembling. Byleth ran his hands down to Yuri’s shoulders, rubbing lightly to try to get him to relax again. A few minutes passed before Yuri was still again, his breathing returning to its normal, even pace. “I don’t think I’ve seen you this shaken in a long time,” Byleth said quietly as he kept his eyes locked on Yuri’s, trying to keep him anchored in reality. He ran his fingers into the shorter hair at the nape of Yuri’s neck, and Yuri leaned into the touch with a curt nod. 

“It… was pretty bad,” he mumbled, looking away again. 

Byleth immediately reached for his chin to tilt his head back up, stroking Yuri’s cheek with his thumb as he spoke. “Just look at me, okay? You only look away from me when you’re ashamed of something, or you’re nervous, and there’s nothing to be ashamed or nervous about.” His voice was gentle but firm, and Yuri reached up to touch his face, feeling overwhelmed again. For a few minutes he was quiet as he stared at Byleth, waiting for his emotions to feel less like they were going to boil over immediately. Forcing his breathing to slow as he mentally counted the seconds, he concentrated on the details of his husband’s face, like the way the green of his eyes was flecked with teal and blue, or the way his nose was bent just the tiniest bit to the left because of a break that didn’t get set properly before it was healed, or the concern in the curve of his lips.

Finally feeling more at ease, Yuri shifted closer to Byleth but still kept his eyes locked with his, wondering momentarily how to explain what had happened in his nightmare. “Do you remember that I was once hired to, ah, infiltrate the Varley household and-” 

Byleth squeezed his shoulder. “You don’t have to say it if you don’t want to, I know what you’re talking about,” he said gently.

Yuri nodded. “I think I told you that after I was discovered the Count had some of his men beat me, well, pretty severely and then leave me half dead in a ditch?”

“Ah, yes,” Byleth answered, nodding. He visibly winced at the reminder, a slight frown lingering on his face. His fingers wandered back to Yuri’s nape, resuming their earlier slow caress of his hair.

“So… my mind decided it would be fun to dredge up those memories… except they weren’t quite the same. Some of the men there were… different.” At this thought, Yuri couldn’t help but look away again, and Byleth didn’t make him look back.

“Different?” Byleth prompted.

Yuri nodded, glancing back at Byleth. “Some of them were… nobles… that I encountered during my time in the Empire…” he answered, and for a few moments it seemed Byleth wasn’t going to put the pieces together, but then realization dawned on his face and he pulled Yuri closer.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pressured you to talk about it,” he said uneasily, his brow furrowed in distress.

Yuri pulled away slightly so he could look at Byleth properly, shaking his head. “No, I… as much as I don’t want to talk about it, I should. And you’re the only person I can see myself talking to about it. So don’t make that face.” Yuri insisted, and he leaned up, tilting his head to drop a small kiss on Byleth’s cheek.

Byleth nodded, a fond smile on his face. “Alright. Did you… want to talk about it now?” he asked, gently rubbing the back of his neck. 

Yawning suddenly, Yuri shook his head. “No, it can wait.” He stretched his limbs and shoulders to release the rest of his built-up tension, and then rolled over so he faced away from Byleth. “Sleep. Just… hold me please,” he requested, turning his head back to look at Byleth slightly.

Byleth promptly wrapped his arms around Yuri, pulling him closer. “I won’t let you go,” he whispered, his mouth close to Yuri’s ear. Yuri felt Byleth’s lips briefly graze his neck, and he shifted around slightly, turning his head back again to try to get a proper kiss. Byleth grinned and leaned in, kissing him, and when Yuri was satisfied, they parted. Yuri snuggled back up against Byleth, sighing contentedly as Byleth rubbed his shoulder lightly. Finally letting his eyes fall closed again, he concentrated on the feeling of Byleth’s arms around him and the sound of him breathing, slowly allowing his senses to numb as he fell back into slumber.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, here's the proper summary if you're here for that:
> 
> Yuri has a nightmare that (as the mind often does) brings together a couple of events mentioned or implied in his supports (with Bernadetta and Dorothea; beware spoilers), but particularly what happened after Count Varley caught him when he was supposed to be assassinating Bernadetta. Byleth (who Yuri is married to) manages to wake him, pulling him from the scene just as the non-con tag would be about to occur. I tagged it because of the implication that it was _about_ to happen. The whole nightmare scene involves abuse of a minor (Yuri is 13 in my head canon at the time of these events, as I explain below)... so maybe don't read this if that makes you uncomfortable.
> 
> The rest of the fic is the comfort portion, but Yuri does go through something similar to a panic attack, which I didn't tag but am mentioning here as that could be hard for some individuals to read.
> 
> Notes:  
> Yuri's timeline pre-1174 is a little unclear, but if you're wondering I'm assuming he was hired to assassinate Bernadetta before he was adopted by Rowe, and the implication made in Dorothea's A support with him occurred after that as he would have been left "halfway to my grave" (quoted from his B support with Bernadetta) and needing a way to recover, get somewhere safe, and get back to Faerghus, where Rowe eventually adopts him. That all requires money. And Dorothea joined the Mittlefrank Opera Company in 1171, so those events that were implied in their A support happened after 1171 but probably before 1174 (which is why I made his dream self seem to be 13). Just my thoughts, I could be wrong :D
> 
> On the title: Amaranth, or amaranthus, is, depending on who you ask, an ancient grain or a weed (or maybe both). In the art of floriography (flower messages, used in Victorian times) amaranth indicates hopelessness. One of it's common names is love-lies-bleeding. Enormity is defined as something that is atrocious, that is outrageous or heinous (as an offense), or more simply a greatness of size, scope, extent, or influence. Do what you will with this information ;D


End file.
